


Beautifully Broken

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drama, Established Relationship, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-24
Updated: 2008-05-23
Packaged: 2018-09-06 10:03:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8745943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Dad's found the acceptance letter to Stanford, but Sam's not the only one with some explaining to do.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

  
Author's notes: This was done so many months ago I'd forgot existence!  


* * *

_This is going to break me clean in two._

_This is going to bring me close to you._

 

“I think you should go, Sammy,” Dean said softly. He moved forward, blocking Dad from view. He didn’t want Dad to influence Sam anymore than he already had. Their hateful words were too much for him to listen to anymore. Sam had worked hard for this and despite every obstacle, himself and Dad included, he’d done it. Sam had gotten himself a full ride to an amazing school like Stanford; the road to a better, secure life. And he should go.

 

He _deserved_ it.

 

“What?” Sam gasped, his chocolate brown eyes wide with disbelief.

 

He should have been angry at Sam, he should have wanted to hurt him as badly as Sam had hurt him by applying to Stanford without even telling him, he should have wanted to back Dad up and keep Sam with them forever…but he couldn’t. He really believed that this was for the better.

 

Dean smiled, well aware of the fact that it didn’t reach his eyes and that he wasn’t the only one that noticed, but letting Sam know all the same that it was made to show him the things Dean couldn’t say. Things like _I never meant for you to think I wouldn’t support you_ , or _I’ve never once underestimated you or the things you deserve_ , and of course the simplest and the hardest of all things for him to say when his heart was as damaged as it was, _I love you_.

 

It didn’t matter that their relationship had shifted in the past two months, or that he finally had Sam as his own, because that wasn’t what this was about. And he wasn’t going to let their new found physical relationship color his feelings about Sam’s leaving. This was about what was best for Sam, and that certainly wasn’t him.

 

“You should go,” he repeated. “It’s what you’ve worked for. You earned it.” He meant that in more ways than one and he hoped Sam understood that.

 

“Dean, you…” Sam stopped and shook his head, clearly at a loss for words. Which made this just a little easier for Dean. If he started in with his pleading or his guilt at leaving behind their relationship Dean would lose what was left of his rationality and kiss the sense right back into Sam, in front of Dad.

 

That was a whole other fight they didn’t need to have right now, if ever.

 

“Come on, Sam,” Dean chided gently. “We all know this is what you want. You didn’t do this just to hurt us, did you?” He was trying to make this a little easier on Sam before he could bust out the puppy dog eyes and break what was left of Dean.

 

“No!” Sam cried vehemently. “Never! Dean, I wouldn’t do that to you.” His voice turned softer, pleading, towards the end. It wasn’t necessary though, Dean knew Sam hadn’t done this to hurt him. He may have known it would, but he hadn’t done it for that reason.

 

“I know you wouldn’t, Sammy,” Dean soothed. “I’m not even mad. I just want you to be happy.”

 

Sam stared at Dean, blinking slowly. He didn’t get it, Dean knew. He couldn’t understand how Dean could tell him to walk away, and honestly, Dean couldn’t either. He just knew that he wanted Sam to be happy, that he didn’t want to spend the rest of their days together in angry silence followed by broken lovemaking. Or worse, he didn’t want Sam to take off in defiance and never come back or call again. Dean wanted all of Sam, but he would take anything Sam was willing to give him, even if it was all the way from California.

 

As much as it hurt to let Sam go, he knew it was the best thing for them both. Especially Sam, and hadn’t that been the purpose of his entire life? To give Sam everything he possibly could?

 

Of course, Dean’s patience and understanding only went so far. If Sam went to Stanford there would be no one else. Sam with someone else was just something Dean couldn’t tolerate.

 

xXx

 

Dean couldn’t be serious. How could he tell Sam to go? How could he stand there so calmly and say that he just wanted Sam to be happy? Didn’t this hurt? Dad had flipped out on him and within seconds they were in their latest screaming match, with Dean standing by anxiously, clenching and unclenching his fists reflexively.

 

Then suddenly Dean stepped in and told him to go, told him to _fucking_ leave for Stanford and forget Dad. _In front of Dad!_ The one and only time Dean had ever defied their father for anything other than caring for Sam after near death experiences or even broken bones.

 

Dean, Dad’s little soldier, was being calm and reasonable. He was defying Dad and not even lying about it as far as Sam could tell. His brother was being as open and honest as he could without the help of alcohol.

 

His gut clenched and his hands shook. Sam wanted to go to Stanford but he didn’t want to leave Dean, not with Dad, not in this life. He wanted to give Dean everything, he wanted to return the favor and make Dean’s life the best he could. He wanted to tell Dean he loved him and not be afraid that he would be eating his words right along with his brother’s fist.

 

Sam didn’t know what to say or what to do with his feelings or his confusion. The urge to hug Dean, to kiss him right then and there with Dad watching in horror and disgust, and not give a damn, was becoming harder to ignore with every soft, loving glance from Dean.

 

Who, thankfully for them both, Dad couldn’t see.

 

“I…” he started softly, dropping his eyes to the floor. How could he be so selfish as to leave Dean here? To never ask him if this was okay, if Dean would hate him for it, or go with him? “Do you…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it, to ask Dean if he hated him.

 

“I don’t,” Dean quickly spoke up, reading Sam’s mind as easily as he always had. Dean’s smile grew, this time reaching his eyes, and he shook his head. “Never could.”

 

Sam laughed in relief. He should have known Dean would be able to ease every fear he had without having to voice them. His brother had been able to do that since they were kids, and some things would never change. More importantly, the things between them would never change, for better or for worse.

 

He chewed his bottom lip nervously. Dean didn’t hate him and in his words ‘never could’, but could he leave with Sam? Would he, when Dean so clearly loved hunting, was so clearly loyal to their father? Would begging or pleading do him any good?

 

_It's all up in the air and we stand still to see what comes down._

_I don't know where it is, I don't know when, but I want you around._

_When it falls into place with you and I, we go from if to when, your side and mine are both behind it's indication._

__

“Dean,” Dad finally spoke up. Of course his silence could only last so long what with this decision affecting his life. “You can’t be serious. How can you tell your brother to walk away from this?”

 

Dean’s eyes flashed with realization. It dawned on Sam that Dean had forgotten Dad was still there, warmth flooding his body at the thought of Dean being so focused on him and the way things could turn out between them that Dean hadn’t even given Dad another thought. That warmth quickly turned to cold dread as he absorbed Dad’s question.

 

He watched Dean curiously, wondering if the question Sam was too afraid to ask, would bring his brother back to his senses. Especially coming from Dad. Dean stepped forward and turned slightly, so that he could see both Dad and Sam again.

 

“Walk away from _this_?” Dean asked smoothly. “Is it the fact that Sam wants to stop hunting that bothers you? Is that what you’re really angry about? Because most fathers would want to know how he could walk away from _us_.”

 

Sam swallowed convulsively. This had to be a dream or Dean was possessed, because never in his life had he heard Dean speak to Dad that way, had never heard Dean really speak to anyone like that unless they’d hurt Sam. Dean for all his biting sarcasm was respectful of those who were respectful to Sam. He never cared if they were respectful to him. Because _fuck them_ , as he often said.

 

Dean’s words hit him harder than they had Dad, Sam realized as he took in Dean’s open expression. His mouth was twisted with bitter understanding and his eyes shone with the never ending guilt he kept inside, the guilt Sam always saw just before Dean’s lips crushed his own in a frenzied, on the edge of control kiss.

 

It hurt Dean to say those things to Dad, to know that no matter what Dad said, it was the idea of Sam leaving that hurt him most. Of Sam walking away from them. That wasn’t what Sam wanted at all, he didn’t want to leave Dean behind. He wanted to take them both out of this and into a better life where they could be together.

 

They could start over and no one would ever have to know that they were brothers. They could get an apartment, go to college, be _normal_ for the first time in their lives since mom had died, or as normal as you could be when you were fucking your brother. That was a minor detail though in the grand scheme of things and one that didn’t bother Sam nearly as much as it should have.

 

Sam tore his gaze from Dean to take in Dad’s shocked expression. He grinned, unable to stop himself. It was a moment he wasn’t likely to relive or an expression he’d likely see again and he wasn’t taking that for granted.

 

Dad’s jaw hung open in a useless attempt at argument, a strangled sound caught somewhere in his throat. His face was turning red and his hands were actually beginning to shake. He was at a complete loss for words. Something else Sam was sure he’d never see again.

 

“It’s the same thing,” Dad finally managed to sputter out. “This is our life and when he walks away from this life, he walks away from us.” He fixed Dean with an angry glare that scared Dean about as much as the dark.

 

“No,” Dean snapped. “It doesn’t. Don’t put that on me.” Dean’s voice was almost threatening as he took a step towards Dad. “I’m not giving up my brother over some stupid argument. It’s his life and he has every right to make what he wants of it.”

 

If Sam thought he was surprised before, he was downright floored now. Was Dean really arguing in favor of another life? Dean lived for the kind of things they did, got some kind of high off of their hunts. He never saw his brother more alive than after a good hunt, maybe during, but it was hard to notice those kinds of things when you were trying to keep each other alive. But after, just before Dad left them alone and Dean’s hands found their way into Sam’s pants, and his tongue into Sam’s mouth, his eyes were bright and shining with the thrill of it.

__

_This is going to bring me clarity._

_This'll take the heart right out of me._

 

Sam lowered his head. Dean would never want to leave this life behind like Sam so desperately did, but still he argued for it, for Sam. He couldn’t watch his brother hurt himself for him again. He couldn’t watch all his hopes wash away with heated gazes.

 

“We need him, Dean. How can you let him walk away from us when we need him? You need him.”

 

Did Dean need him? Did he really need Sam screwing up his life? Making him question their father who he’d always idolized and admired? Making Dean feel weak and filled with guilt over their relationship? Did Dean really need that on top of everything else?

 

“Like this,” Dean answered smartly. He turned to Sam. “Sammy,” Dean asked. “This is what you want…isn’t it?”

 

Sam’s head jerked up. There it was. There, he knew he’d heard it in Dean’s voice then, the fear and hope that this would turn out to be Sam’s idea of a joke, a way of keeping them on their toes, anything but what it really was. His express ticket out of this life and this family.

 

He studied Dean’s face intently, watching as the open, honest expression his brother had been wearing earlier faded into one of blank curiosity. He was trying his best not to influence Sam, he really wanted to know if this was what Sam wanted, plain and simple.

 

Dad on the other hand was glaring sullenly at him, his arms crossed over his chest now. He was doing his damndest to let Sam know that his decision was going to come attached with serious consequences no matter how understanding Dean may be about things.

 

The thing was, Sam didn’t give a damn about Dad’s consequences so long as Dean’s didn’t come along with the package. Dean’s consequences would be far worse than Dad’s. With an evil mind like his brother’s there was no telling how much he would make Sam suffer.

 

“Sammy,” Dean prompted. “It’s okay. Just tell me what you want.”

 

Tell Dean what he wanted? There were so many things Sam wanted, like Dean on his knees and his pretty lips wrapped around Sam’s dick, for one. But he was pretty sure that, that wasn’t the kind of thing Dean wanted to hear him say, at least not in front of Dad.

 

He wasn’t really sure what Dean wanted.

 

Sam crossed the small distance between them, the older Winchester watching him warily. Chocolate brown eyes searched gold flecked green for the answer to the question he needed to hear the most.

 

What did _Dean_ want?

 

His brother’s eyes flashed with hunger as they flitted across Sam’s mouth and back up to his eyes. Dean’s lips tilted up into a knowing grin, a touch of sadness coloring his normally filthy promised gaze that could have Sam blushing ten different shades of red.

 

And like that, Sam had his answer.

 

Without thought of consequences he wrapped his fingers around Dean’s wrist and jerked him forward. “I want this,” Sam murmured, crushing his mouth to Dean’s. “I want you.”

 

His brother froze beneath his lips, his hands coming to rest hesitantly on Sam’s waist. Sam smiled and cupped Dean’s face gently. He didn’t care that Dad was standing behind them, he didn’t care that Dad could see what they’d been hiding from him for the past two months, and he didn’t care what Dad would think or say about this, about them.

 

He _loved_ Dean. Dad’s fear or disgust meant nothing to him and he could only pray that it wouldn’t mean anything to Dean either.

 

His fears were eased when Dean finally began to respond to his touch, one hand gripping Sam’s waist, drawing him closer, and the other coming up to rest against the hand cupping his cheek. His kisses slowly turned from hesitant to insistent, his tongue licking it’s way into Sam’s mouth with hungry fervor.

 

Stanford had nothing on Dean.

 

xXx

 

Dean stood unmoving as Sam devoured his mouth, his thumb stroking the underside of Dean’s jaw, begging for his acceptance. As if Dean could turn him away now.

 

He hadn’t been able to do it two months ago and there was no way he could do it now, he was in far too deep to do anything but kiss Sam back with just as much hunger.

 

He gripped Sam’s hips tightly and dragged him up against his body, moving a free hand to cover one of Sam’s.

 

“This is what you want?” Dean asked huskily. “You sure?” He brushed his thumb slowly over Sam’s hipbone, savoring the feel of overheated skin as he waited nervously for Sam’s words.

 

Sam dragged his teeth over Dean’s lower lip and grinned. “I’ve always been sure,” he admitted shyly.

 

Dean’s heart skipped a beat and his breath caught in his throat. Sam said things like that to him all the time when Dean’s mind was too hazy with lust for him to lash out with a sarcastic retort or an angry fist.

 

It scared him to hear Sam say things like. It made everything all too real and the guilt over fucking his baby brother more unbearable than ever. But now it just made him warm inside and his skin too tight, his fingers itching to explore Sam’s body and remind himself of the sounds he could elicit with just the right touch.

 

“Me too,” Dean confessed. He may have answered Sam’s sappy words in the heat of the moment before, too caught up in the pleasure to realize how much he could damage Sam, but he’d never admitted anything like that to Sam outside of the bedroom. Least of all, in front of Dad.

 

_Dad_. Shit.

 

Dean’s face drained of color and Sam’s worried eyes searched his. Dean pressed his lips together in a tight, thin line and tried not to panic. What the hell was he supposed to say to Dad? How did he explain Sam’s tongue down his throat or his hands on Sam’s hips?

 

There was no explanation outside the obvious. That he was fucking his baby brother with no intentions of stopping and with, well, not _enough_ remorse.

 

Sam’s eyes widened slightly as he realized what Dean was thinking. Apparently Sam’s bold move hadn’t been nearly as thought out as Dean had assumed. He had as about much of a plan as Dean did.

__

_This is going to bring me to my knees._

_I just want to hold you close to me._

__

They stepped apart slowly, knowing they had to face Dad soon before he regained his senses and tried to kick both their asses, but not before Dean could press one last kiss to the corner of Sam‘s mouth. He gave Sam a reassuring smile and bit down on his tongue before he could do something even more foolish and tell Sam he loved him. Or some pathetic excuse of an attempt.

 

Now would not be the time for that. Not until they’d dealt with Dad and sat down and talked things out. He couldn’t be the reason Sam stayed here, not if he wanted more. Dean needed Sam to _want_ to be here, otherwise what they had would eventually fade with Sam’s resentment. And Dean couldn’t have that. He needed his brother’s love more than he needed air.

 

He felt Sam’s hand slip into his, his fingers gently threading through his own. Sam gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and suddenly Dean wasn’t so afraid of Dad or what he thought. He could pretend all Dad asked him to, but he would always need Sam, would always crave his touch. It didn’t matter what Dad did or what he said, Sam was always going to be _it_ for Dean.

 

Sam couldn’t hear that though, not when he hadn’t made his decision. A welcomed attack of tongue and lips, and murmured words of promise in the heat of the moment didn’t count as decision making as far as Dean was concerned. Not when that person was Sam and his future was on the line.

 

“Sam,” he said, clearing his throat. “Why don’t you go down to the diner and wait for me there, okay?”

 

Sam’s head whipped to the side, staring at Dean incredulously. “But, what-”

 

“Please.”

 

One word, just one word and Sam knew that Dean was serious. He had to do this alone. He had to try and make Dad understand that he just couldn’t do without Sam, not as long as Sam wanted him too.

 

His younger brother hesitated, his fingers flexing around Dean’s. With a heavy sigh he finally nodded and let Dean’s hand drop. Sam turned to go, his shoulders tight with misgivings, and Dean knew he couldn’t send Sam out worrying like he was.

 

Probably about whether Dad could talk him out of loving Sam, or at the very least sleeping with him.

 

Dean stopped him with a gentle hand, his fingers wrapping firmly around Sam’s wrist. When Sam turned, watching him curiously, he tilted his mouth up in a crooked grin and gave a gentle tug. Sam hesitated a split second before giving in and moving closer to Dean, his mouth a tight, thin line.

 

Dean wrapped an arm around Sam’s neck and brought their mouths back together. Dad had seen them kiss once, why not twice? He’d have to get used to it anyway now that things were out in the open. Dean nibbled at Sam’s bottom lip until he felt the tension drain out of Sam’s body.

 

More relaxed with Dean’s mouth back on his, Sam’s arms slipped around Dean’s waist and held them tightly together. He licked his way into Dean’s mouth and sighed in contentment, his eyes falling shut.

 

Dean slid a hand between them, pushing at Sam’s chest. He wanted to calm Sam down, not heat things up. There would be plenty of time for that later once he’d had words with Dad.

 

Sam’s eyes fluttered open, revealing liquid heat. He growled low in his throat, his only protest at being told no, and took a much needed step back. Dean grinned suggestively and devoured Sam’s mouth with bruising force as he rolled his hips promisingly against Sam‘s.

 

Let Sam think about that while he waited in the diner, his pants painfully tight as he waited for Dean. It wasn’t fair for Sam to be sitting comfortably in the diner while Dean was stuck in their motel room sporting the hard on of a lifetime and trying to explain the situation to Dad all the while clinging to what little dignity he had left.

 

“He’ll never change my mind,” Dean swore, releasing Sam’s mouth reluctantly. It wasn’t I love you, but it was more than Dean had thought he could manage.

 

Sam took a shaky breath and nodded, walking backwards to the door. Dean watched him go, his gaze locked with Sam’s until the door closed with a loud snick in the too quiet room.


	2. Chapter 2

  
Author's notes: Sorry it's been so long! I've been working like crazy on new fics!  


* * *

Licking his lips and savoring the taste of Sam one last time, he turned back to Dad, his face as cool as he could manage.

 

One look at Dad had cool out the window, and a blush creeping up his neck.

 

His father’s wide eyed gaze was much too probing, his mouth once more gaping at the show his sons had just put on for him, not once, but _twice_. He just stood there and stared at Dean, _waiting_.

 

Dean cleared his throat. “Dad, I know-”

 

“You know what, Dean?” Dad asked in a choked out whisper. “That what you’re doing is _wrong_? That you’re taking advantage of your younger brother?” Dad sighed and shook his head, taking this a lot better than Dean had expected. “I want him here as badly as you do, son, but that was beyond unacceptable.”

 

“Dad, no,” Dean said in exasperation, understanding where Dad was going with things now. Leave it to him to rationalize the situation any way he could. Had he not been listening to Dean the past ten minutes? He wanted Sam to leave, if that’s what Sam wanted. He wasn’t doing _anything_ to keep Sam there. And had Dad missed the fact that _Sam_ had kissed _him_ first? This wasn‘t some sick, twisted version of bribery that somehow made sense to Dad. “That’s not what-”

 

“Dean,” Dad said sharply. His eyes held as much disapproval and disappointment as his voice did. “Don’t tell me that kiss had more meaning than that, because I know you would never want to hurt Sam.”

 

Dean snorted, amazed at his own idiocy. Dad wasn‘t blind, he knew exactly what was going on, he was just practicing the age old Winchester way-denial. Dean was sure by the heavy warning in his words that he was trying to give Dean a way out-for all their sakes.

 

“I’m not hurting, Sam,” he snapped defensively. He‘d struggled with his feelings for Sam for years, and even more once Sam had let him know he shared those feelings. The guilt and fear had nearly consumed him. It had taken Sam’s bitter attempt at moving on for Dean to realize what a mistake he was making letting go of Sam.

 

****

**“Sam,” he choked out around a sad laugh. “You’ll change your mind, believe me. You’ll find someone else and forget about me in no time.”**

**He licked his lips nervously, the taste of Sam still attacking every one of his senses. Dean could only hope that Sam would believe his denial of feelings, that he hadn’t noticed the way Dean had shook when his mouth came crashing down over his. Or the soft whimper he’d let slip when Sam’s tongue had licked it’s way into his mouth. He could only hope that Sam’s heart had been pounding furiously against his ribcage and his pulse thrumming so loudly in his ears like Dean’s, that he hadn’t noticed anything else.**

**It wasn’t like Dean had expected the kiss anyway. Sam had lured him out of the motel room, claiming that he had a problem he needed to talk over with Dean. Away from Dad. Of course he’d gone, this was Sam that needed his help. Besides, he’d figured it was about some girl and that should keep his mind focused and far from thoughts of Sam.**

**There’d been no girl, no problem really, unless you considered Sam’s kissing him silly a problem. Which was pretty much a toss up at this point for Dean. Sam had simply pushed him against the motel wall and took what he wanted. What Dean had wanted.**

**Sam sighed and shook his head, the same way he did when Dean didn’t understand something that in Sam’s mind was blindingly obvious. “No, Dean,” he promised softly. “I won’t. I _love_ you. Finding someone else isn’t going to change anything.”**

**“Sam,” Dean sighed. He wanted to believe his brother, he wanted to pull Sam back into his arms and kiss every fear in his system away, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t believe that his eighteen year old brother was as head over heels in love with him, as he was with Sam.**

**“It’s okay.” Sam cleared his throat and gave a tight shrug of his shoulders. “You don’t feel the same way; I get it. It’s not a big deal.”**

**Not a big deal? What happed to _I love you_ and _finding someone else isn’t going to change anything_? How could Dean’s lack of feelings for Sam be no big deal if it was such a big deal to Sam?**

**It wasn’t, obviously.**

**Sam gave a weak smile and headed back into their motel room before Dean could say another word. Which was probably the best thing for him. Irritation and a dull ache that had settled in his chest at his brother’s easily changed mind had him close to switching their positions and taking what _he_ wanted from Sam. The all too false smile and tense set of Sam’s shoulder should have made it easier for Dean to control himself, but it hadn’t. It had bothered him all the more. He was used to being the emotionally stunted one, not Sam. Sam had admitted his love for Dean and he should have stuck to that, irrational as it was, that was what Dean wanted.**

**Dean followed Sam back into the motel room and tried to pretend like his wildest fantasy hadn’t just come true and then crashed at his feet. Dad of course hadn’t noticed a thing and life had gone on as normally as it could with so much tension between the two of them.**

**Less than a week later though, it had seemed that Sammy _had_ moved on like Dean had predicted.**

**There were still a few hours left in the school day and that made Dean early in picking Sam up, but Dad had found a new job that he felt just couldn’t wait. He wanted the boys to come with him, to which Dean had agreed only after Dad had promised they would come back. He knew how much Sam hated switching schools and it was his senior year. After what had happened between them, he’d been even more eager to make Sam happy. Just because he was doing the right thing for Sam didn’t make it any easier.**

**Dean stopped dead in his tracks, taking in his brother’s relaxed body. He was sitting outside the school at a picnic table, apparently on his lunch hour. Slumped down and propped up by his elbows, his legs spread wide, Sam was smiling up at a sandy haired boy that Dean had never seen before.**

**He was shorter than Sam, like most everyone, and even shorter than Dean, barely reaching 5’10. His hip was cocked suggestively to the side, his eyes roaming Sam’s body appreciatively as he continued to make Sam smile with whatever nonsense was spilling out of his mouth.**

**As Dean stood there and watched the sandy haired boy between his brother’s long legs move closer, hands resting on Sam‘s thighs now, he knew he should be relieved that Sam had moved on and whatever small bit of hope that had been keeping him awake at night was now crushed. But he wasn’t. He was angry and hurt, his fists clenching and unclenching unconsciously at his sides.**

**In case Sam had forgotten he was supposed to be in love with Dean, and that meant there was no one else. Ever. Dean was just going to have to remind Sam of that. Overwhelmed to the point of stupidity, Dean resumed his pace and in five long strides had reached Sam and his _friend_.**

**With two quick moves he’d jerked the sandy haired boy away from _his_ Sam, and Sam to his feet. He fisted his free hand in his brother’s shaggy brown hair and yanked his head back, forcing him to look at Dean.**

**“Looks like you moved on pretty quickly, Sammy,” Dean growled.**

**Sam stared dazedly up at Dean, a slow grin spreading across his face as he realized who it was that had interrupted their conversation. “Looks like you didn’t.”**

**“What are you-” he stopped, blinking confusedly. “You were playing with me,” Dean whispered in horrified realization. “How did you-”**

**“I heard the Impala, Dean.” Sam shook his head. “Not to mention I got my pass home long before you even found me. I knew you were coming and this might have been my only chance to see how you really felt, so…” He shrugged. “I took a chance.”**

**Dean stared in irritated disbelief and wracked his brain for a way out of this. Sam had set him up good. “I told you, I-”**

**“Don’t,” Sam hissed, eyes flashing dangerously. “I felt it when I kissed you, Dean. You wanted it as much as I did.”**

**“If I wanted it as much as you did, then why’d you have to go through all this?” Dean shot back, raising a questioning brow.**

**Sam glanced down, the soft hitch in his breathing belying his confidence. “I had to be sure.”**

**“Fuck,” Dean moaned quietly. “Why did you have to do that, Sam? I could have let this go. I could have made myself forget that night, that kiss, everything!”**

**“I don’t want you to forget, Dean!” he snapped. “I want you to give us a chance.”**

**“Sammy, it’s not that easy. You and me…”**

**“I can make you happy,” Sam pleaded softly. He wrapped his hand around the one Dean had fisted in his hair. “I can make you feel good, Dean. I can do anything you want me to.” Sam’s hips shifted, rubbing suggestively against Dean’s thigh.**

**“Fuck,” Dean moaned again. He didn‘t know what else to say. This couldn‘t be his younger brother talking, promising any sexual desire Dean could possibly have and more, without a second thought. That didn‘t matter to Dean, how could Sam not realize that? “Sam, stop. That isn’t what this is about.”**

**“You can still fuck anyone you want,” Sam answered, his eyes dropping to Dean’s throat. “I’m not asking you to give anything up you don’t want to, if that‘s what you‘re afraid of.”**

**Dean went ridged, his hand tightening in Sam’s hair. What the hell had happened to Sam? When had he started thinking so poorly of himself as to offer up everything he had for nothing in return? That wasn’t how it worked. Not for Sam.**

**“Let me get this straight,” he started out calmly. “You’ll do whatever I say, you won’t even _look_ at someone else and I can fuck anything with a pulse?”**

**Sam flinched but nodded. “Anything you want, Dean.” His voice came out steady but hoarse, as if it pained him to agree to that.**

**Dean growled and shoved Sam back, sending him flying hard onto the bench he’d been sitting on moments ago. He leaned forward, boxing Sam in with hands splayed out across the picnic table. Sam shrank in on himself as if that would quell Dean’s anger.**

**“No,” Dean commanded. “That’s not how things work, Sam. You don’t give yourself up for nothing in return, not for anyone.”**

**“I want to,” he argued. “If it means having you, somehow-”**

**“No,” Dean repeated harshly. “Not for _anyone_ , Sam. No one deserves you as it is; don’t just hand yourself over. If someone wants to be with you, then they play by the same rules. Got me?”**

**“Do I?” Sam asked. He turned hopeful, chocolate brown eyes up to Dean’s angry gold flecked green.**

**The flicker of fear in Sam’s eyes knocked down every defense he had and the fear and guilt he’d been carrying around for the past three years suddenly didn’t seem so bad, not compared to the way he knew Sam was feeling now. So desperate, so hopeful, he was breaking himself to try and keep himself together.**

**“Always have,” Dean admitted weakly. He leaned down and brushed his lips softly over Sam’s. Letting his eyes fall shut, he pressed his forehead to Sam’s and breathed him in. “Dad’s waiting, Sammy. We’ll figure things out when we get back, okay?”**

**Sam nodded and tilted his chin up for another kiss. Smiling, Dean obliged and kissed Sam properly, with teeth, tongue, and heart.**

****

 

“Dad, you don’t get it,” Dean interrupted, pulling himself back to the present. He wasn’t sure what Dad was going on about, his voice a dull roaring in his ears, but he knew that he had to make it clear now before things went any further that this wasn’t a game to him. “This isn’t just about kissing or, or…” Oh, hell no, he wasn’t going there. “I love Sam.” Dean swallowed hard and dropped his gaze for the briefest of moments before staring hard at his father. He hadn’t said those words out loud, not with their new meaning, and to say them now, to their father was a lot easier than he’d ever expected.

 

“He’s your _brother_!” Dad yelled. “You don’t fall in love with your brother!”

 

Dean shrugged. “Well, I did.” It was simple and it held all the truth Dad needed to hear. Dean was in love with Sam and whether that was right or wrong, it was true and it was unchangeable. Dean had tried more than once to forget Sam and each kiss reminded him that there was no way out. He’d been drowning in guilt for far too long now, he wasn’t about to let Dad drag him under again.

 

“When did this start?” Dad demanded angrily.

 

“About two months ago,” he answered. There was no need to tell Dad that he’d been in love with Sam since he was seventeen, that wasn’t what he’d asked anyway.

 

“Two months?” Dad shouted incredulously. “This has been going on for _two months_?”

 

“Yes, sir.” Two months of sneaking around, two months of kissing and fucking, two months of absolute happiness, two months out of his whole life that meant more than anything.

 

Dean listened half heartedly as Dad had his well deserved freak out. He tried not to take Dad’s words too seriously, knowing that this was a lot to deal with. Dean hadn’t dealt that well with it in the beginning either.

 

Like Dean, Dad would either learn to accept it or shut his boys out completely, because he wasn’t giving Sam up for anything. He’d given up a lot in his life and he didn’t regret any of it, not when he knew how much it had helped his family or had made them happy, but this wasn’t one of those things.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam leaned heavily against the door, trying to force himself to move. He didn’t want to leave Dean there with Dad, he wanted to go back in there and let Dean fuck his mouth. He wanted to forget any argument, any talk of leaving Dean and just fall back into his brother’s touch.

 

He didn’t understand why Dean wanted him to leave and despite Dean’s promise of staying true, he couldn’t help but fear the worst. This _was_ Dad after all that Dean was talking to. A very pissed off and very freaked out Dad.

 

Sam knew how guilty Dean felt about their relationship and how bad it had been in the beginning, so bad they almost hadn’t had a chance, and he was afraid that Dad would be able to bring all that rushing back to Dean. He’d done it once before, why not now? 

 

****

**Sam was so nervous and excited about getting back from the hunt that he was nearly shaking with anticipation. It had been almost a week since Dean picked him up from school and knocked the shit out of Jack Williams in an honest to God, fit of jealousy.**

**Sam had offered himself up in every way he could think of, fearing that Dean was pushing him away or would keep pushing him away because he wasn’t nearly as experienced as his older brother in the way of physical affection.**

**Dean had been angry, had told him that relationships were fifty-fifty and if one was committed so was the other. There was no one sided loyalty when it came to Sam.**

**With gentle kisses and a promise to talk things out when they got back from the hunt, Sam had eagerly agreed. All that had been nearly a week ago and Sam was practically bouncing in his damn seat to get back to the motel and away from Dad. His body was humming with the need to touch Dean, to taste him. They’d only kissed a few times, but it had been enough for Sam to become addicted to the achingly sweet taste of his brother’s tongue.**

**Sam glanced at Dean, frowning when he found his brother’s face cool and detached. Dean stared straight ahead, his back straight and gaze distant. He looked anything but thrilled at the prospect of having to talk things out with Sam.**

**Sam of course wasn’t going to let that stop him. He was just going to remind Dean of what he was offering and pray that it was enough the first chance he got, because really, what more could he do?**

**That chance didn’t come till early that evening when they’d driven Dad to the edge of reason and he’d forced them both to leave the room and not come back until they’d sorted their shit out. They were barely out the door before he had Dean crowded up against the wall, and his mouth muffling any of Dean’s half hearted protests.**

**When he finally managed to tear his mouth from Sam’s, he scowled and grabbed Sam’s arm, dragging him as far back into the motel’s twists and turns as possible without leaving themselves open to prying eyes.**

**“That was really stupid,” Dean said, pushing Sam ahead of him and leaning back against the wall. “Dad could have walked out any second.”**

**“I don’t care,” Sam said, crushing his mouth back to Dean’s. This time Dean didn’t kiss him back, instead pushed Sam gently away all together.**

**“Well you should.” Dean shifted his gaze to the left, staring at the broken down ice machine that probably hadn’t worked in years.**

**“Is this because…I know I’m not…” Sam bit down hard on his lower lip. This wasn’t easy for him to say, to admit to. It was embarrassing and he was afraid it would only make things worse between them instead of fix things. But he had to be honest with Dean, it was all he had. “I’ll do whatever you want,” he continued quietly. So quietly Dean had to strain to hear him. “I‘m a quick learner.”**

**“Sam, what are you talking about?” Dean snapped in frustration, glancing back at him.**

**Jesus, his brother just wasn’t going to make this easy for him. “I want to make you feel good, Dean. Anything, just tell me what you want and I’ll-”Sam didn’t get to finish. His back was slammed hard against the motel wall, switching their positions and knocking the wind out of him.**

**He stared at Dean, blinking slowly. What the hell was that all about? He hadn’t said anything about Dean sleeping around, or not sleeping around. Surely making Dean feel good wasn’t out of the question in his fifty-fifty relationship.**

**“Stop saying things like that,” Dean growled. “Stop talking like this is all about _fucking_.”**

**“It isn’t all about fucking,” Sam swore. “I just thought you wanted…”**

**“Wanted what, Sam?” Dean demanded. “To fuck that pretty mouth of yours? Maybe take you in the backseat while Dad’s driving? Because the dirtier, the better right?” Dean’s voice was filled with disgust, but God, _yes_. The idea of Dean fucking his mouth was so unbelievably hot Sam could hardly think straight. **

**“If that’s what you want,” he murmured.**

**Dean’s eyes flashed dangerously and before Sam could take it back he was down on his knees and blinking uncomprehendingly as Dean’s jeans were unzipped.**

**He looked up at Dean through dark lashes and licked his lips. His heart thundered in his chest, pulse pounding in his ears. This was it. This was what he’d been promising Dean, what he’d been acting like he knew all about and now Dean was calling his bluff.**

**Only it wasn’t so much a bluff as wishful thinking. He’d wanted this for as long as he could remember, it had been on his mind for practically every waking moment since he’d first pressed his lips to Dean’s. But wanting it, and thinking about it, was completely different than actually doing it.**

**He was out of his element. At an almost complete loss. He’d been with a few guys, but he’d never done anything like this with them. Kissing them was hard enough to do without imagining his brother’s face in their place, how had he been supposed to go any further than that?**

**He heard his brother snort just above him and felt determination flood his senses. Dean didn’t think he was serious, he thought this was some kind of game, some teenage crush gone wrong, and that this challenge would end it all.**

**Sam tilted his head back, smirking up at Dean. He dragged his teeth slowly across his bottom lip, watching with satisfaction as the humor disappeared from Dean’s eyes; the dark hunger he’d seen when his brother had knocked him to his knees staring back at him. His heart jumped and he had to remind himself to breathe.**

**Dean was too gorgeous for words. Eyes wide, pupils blown. His mouth parted, tongue between his teeth, and every bit of him as out of control as he’d ever let Sam see. This was the moment Sam had been striving for: when Dean gave himself over completely and just accepted that Sam felt the same way he did. Or at least, the start of his giving himself over completely. Sam wasn’t fool enough to think one blowjob could fix everything.**

**Reminding himself that his window of opportunity would close just as quickly as it had opened, he reached for Dean’s hips and dragged his jeans down. He took a shuddering breath, glancing down briefly for fear of the blush he knew would stain his cheeks if he really let himself accept what was happening. There was no way Dean would let this happen if he saw that.**

**Sam leaned forward and licked a line up the underside of Dean’s cock, doing his best to repeat the actions he knew felt best when he’d been the on the receiving end. Dean’s hips stuttered, panic flaring in his features. He was finally realizing that Sam meant every word he’d ever said on the subject of _them_. That however didn’t erase the fact that if Sam didn’t do something fast his brother was going to end things while he still could, and Sam couldn’t deal with that.**

**He’d tasted Dean and there was no coming back from that. He flicked his tongue over the head, teeth dragging against sensitive flesh in a desperate attempt to urge Dean on. Sam moaned softly around his Dean's dick at the salty spurt of pre-come that filled his mouth, the vibration of it caressing the hard length of his brother’s cock.**

**Dean lost it then- his hips slamming forward, all his careful control gone like his righteous protests. Sam groaned as Dean’s length slipped further down his throat, followed by a soft mewl that parted Dean’s lips and turned Sam’s insides to liquid at the same time. He relaxed his throat and let Dean fuck his mouth, not bothering to hold Dean’s hips back against the wall or pull back even when it bordered on the edge of too much and too rough.**

**It was a euphoric high to know that Dean was losing control over Sam and finally letting go, despite whatever had thrown him off in the first place. But as quickly as it had started, it was over. Dean’s hands were pushing Sam away instead of closer and he was saying Sam’s name with the same brokenness as Sam had called out Dean’s the night Sam had told him he loved him.**

**“Stop, stop. Sammy, stop,” Dean panted, pushing Sam back as he slid down the wall. He drew his knees up to his chest and pressed his face against his thighs with a pained groan. He took a few deep breaths and then lifted his face up to Sam, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright with unshed tears. “Come here,” he whispered, holding his arms out to Sam.**

**Sam studied his brother’s face, scared that he had done something wrong, but moved forward all the same, letting Dean wrap himself around him. Dean pressed his face into Sam’s neck, trailing gentle kisses down to his throat.**

**“I’m sorry, Sammy. “ Dean’s hands moved up to cup his neck, thumbs stroking from throat to jaw. “Did I hurt you?”**

**Laughing softly, Sam shook his head. Is that what was bothering Dean? He thought he’d hurt Sam? “I’m fine.” His throat was a little raw, but the reason behind it was enough to keep him from complaining.**

**Dean watched him disbelievingly. “I didn’t mean to be so rough. I shouldn’t have-”**

**“I wanted it,” Sam protested quickly. He didn’t want Dean to keep blaming himself for everything. If he did that, they’d never get anywhere. Besides, it wasn’t like Sam hadn’t wanted it. To taste Dean’s cock, to feel Dean’s hands fisted in his hair as he moaned and thrust into Sam’s mouth, cheeks flushed, begging.**

**“No, Sam,” Dean shook his head. “You’re confused.”**

**“Would you fucking stop saying that?!” Sam yelled, shoving Dean’s apologetic hands away. “I’m not confused. _You’re_ the one that’s confused, Dean. You wanted to talk, you wanted to work things out after the hunt and then suddenly you didn’t. You didn’t fucking want me near you. Ten minutes later you’re fucking my mouth, so if anyone’s confused, it’s _you_.” His chest heaving from his outburst and the lust pulsing through his veins, Sam inched forward, plastering his body to Dean’s. “I’m not confused about anything. I wanted to talk, I wanted to touch you, I wanted you to fuck my mouth,” Sam’s voice dropped, low and filthy. It was the only way to get through to Dean, to tell him what he wanted, because Dean sure the hell didn’t know what he wanted.**

**Searching Dean’s eyes for permission, he licked at Dean’s bottom lip, teeth dragging across sensitive flesh. His lips parted on a breath, jaw trembling. Sam took that for encouragement and let his eyes fall closed. He leaned in, finding Dean’s mouth as easily as his own.**

**He kissed his brother slow and sweet, fucking his mouth with the same intensity Dean had shown him. His brother whimpered softly and his hips bucked, reminding them both of Sam’s unfinished job. Sam wrapped his hand around Dean’s cock and gave a gentle tug. He arched up into Sam’s touch, panting now.**

**“You don’t have to do this, Sam.”**

**“If you want me-”**

**“No,” Dean said harshly. “You have to want this, Sam. Is this what you want?”**

**Sam nodded. “Yes,” he breathed. “ _God_ , yes.”**

**That’s all Dean had wanted to hear, all he needed, was some kind of acknowledgment from Sam that Dean wasn’t the only one wanting this. He sealed his mouth back over Sam’s and rocked his hips forward, letting Sam finish what he’d started with the first real signs of encouragement since they‘d started this.**

**A few gentle tugs, a twist of Sam’s wrist and Dean was done. Coming in long, hot spurts against Sam’s fist with a sharp gasp of his name. Sam grinned and sank his teeth into Dean’s bottom lip as his brother fought to regain control of his breathing.**

**Hope welled up in his chest when Dean’s arms wrapped around him. He’d half expected Dean to push him away once more, his fear forcing him to rationalize things all over again. Instead Dean’s hand tangled in his hair, the other cupping Sam’s hip affectionately.**

**Sam dropped his mouth to Dean’s throat and began to suck, wanting to leave his mark on Dean while his brother was in such a loving mood. Or at least while he was too out of his mind to object to the risky move.**

**“Why do you always do that?” Dean asked once his breathing had slowed enough for him to talk without panting.**

**“Do what?” Sam murmured, continuing to suck at Dean’s throat. If Dean was talking about that, then it was a pretty stupid question. Who didn’t want to suck on any part of Dean?**

**His brother groaned, momentarily lost in sensation. “Make it about me; about you fucking me,” he finally answered.**

**“I just want to make you feel good, Dean. Like you do for me,” Sam replied honestly. Dean could simply look his way and give Sam an honest to God smile and everything Sam had been feeling disappeared. The heaviness in his heart replaced with the happiness only Dean could give him. And if the physical was the only way Sam could return that, then he would be more than happy to return the favor.**

**“I haven’t even…oh,” Dean said quietly, finally catching on. “You already do,” he added after a beat. “I think about you every time my hand wraps around my cock.”**

**Sam shuddered and gasped out his name, shocked that his brother would admit something like that to him. He could barely tell Sam he had any feelings outside of the ordinary for him. Or ordinary feelings for him, for that matter.**

**Dean grinned slyly. “You like that, baby?”**

**Oh, _fuck_. Why did Dean have to call him baby? He was going to come so hard he wouldn’t be able to walk straight for weeks if Dean kept it up. “Yes,” he whimpered anyway. “Yes.”**

**Dean leaned forward, pressing his lips to Sam’s ear. “Do you know how long I’ve been fucking my hand, my _ass_ , thinking of you?”**

**Sam shook his head, filthy images of Dean lying in the motel bed they shared while Sam showered, his hand wrapped tight around his cock, pumping as his hips thrust up desperately...**

**Sam shuddered again. Fuck, if he didn’t get his body under control he was going to lose it before Dean even touched him.**

**“Wanna know?” Dean teased.**

**Sam whimpered in response, apparently the only one he knew anymore, and clutched at Dean’s shoulders as his hips thrust up in two sharp bursts before he got himself under control again. This was _not_ going to be easy with Dean’s voice low and husky, filled with sexual promise.**

**Dean laughed, the warm wash of breath across Sam’s neck shooting straight to his groin. “Three years, Sammy. Three long years I’ve been thinking about your mouth.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of Sam’s mouth. “Your hand.” Dean kissed the palm of his hand. “God, even your _hair_.”**

**“Dean,” he moaned. “Stop.”**

**“What’s wrong, Sammy? I thought you liked hearing about how much you turn me on. The way I imagine it’s your hand wrapped around my cock instead of my own, fuck, Sammy, I can almost taste you.” Dean whimpered then and licked his lips hungrily.**

**Sam’s eyes flew open at the sound, taking in the desperation and Dean’s all too fuckable mouth. “If you don’t stop, Dean. I’m gonna…”**

**“You’re gonna what?” he taunted. “What are you going to do, Sammy?”**

**Dean’s eyes flashed with something Sam had never seen before, and his hips lifted against Sam‘s, prompting a low string of curses.**

**Dean chuckled. “Such a dirty mouth,” he teased.**

**“Dean,” Sam said softly. He chewed his lower lip nervously, tracing random patterns across Dean’s shoulder as he waited. He wanted to do this, he wanted to be with Dean, but if he let this happen and Dean pushed him away…**

**“Yeah?” he asked thickly. Dean shifted underneath him, wrapping his arm more tightly around Sam’s waist. “What is it, Sammy?”**

**“You’re not going to,” Sam paused and sucked in a breath. He had to ask. It didn’t really make a difference, he was already head over heels for his brother and completely fucked, but he still had to know just _how_ fucked he was. “You’re not going to change your mind again after this? I mean, this wasn’t just a good time for you right?”**

**Dean jerked to attention then and opened guilty eyes. “Sammy,” he started quietly.**

**“No, hey,” Sam interrupted. “It’s okay, Dean. I just want to know where I stand this time. That’s all.” At least he’d gotten out before he’d given Dean everything. It was just his heart after all.**

**“No,” Dean snapped angrily. “It’s not okay. You’re not something to be used, how many times am I going to have to say that before you get it?”**

**“I dunno, Dean. How many times am I going to have to ask you what this is before you give me an answer?”**

**His brother gave a heavy sigh and tilted his head back. “I freaked out because…God, it sounds so stupid now.”**

**Sam sat up. Dean was having doubts too? And not about his feelings for Sam, but about something that he thought was _stupid_? “What?” he asked curiously.**

**“Because Dad made me feel guilty. It’s so stupid, I have enough reason to feel guilty about this and that didn’t stop me from knocking that kid on his ass, but suddenly Dad makes me feel guilty and…I don’t know. I just freaked.”**

**“You told _Dad_ ,” Sam squeaked, his heart suddenly in his throat. What the hell had his brother been thinking?! You didn’t tell your father you were thinking about fucking your _brother_! God, Dean had to know that!**

**Dean snorted and made an as if face. “Right, Sam. That’s why I’m still breathing.” He smacked Sam upside his head and snorted again. “He watches you when you sleep at night, did you know that?” Dean asked suddenly.**

**Sam frowned and shook his head. No, he didn’t know that. But what did that have to do with Dean freaking out?**

**Dean nodded. “He does. Almost every night. Then, on this hunt, for some reason he started talking about when you were little and how I needed to look out for you even more now. It didn’t make any sense to me at first, I mean, you’re _eighteen_. It’s not like when we were kids and I had to feed you or take you to the bathroom. Jesus,” Dean shoved his fingers through his short cropped hair. “Then one night, he gave me this _look_ , like he knew what I’d been thinking the past three years, like he knew what happened that night and at your school…it was like he was telling me that I had to protect you from _me_. And the more I thought about it, the more I knew I had to stop things. Dad was counting on me, _you_ were counting on me, Sam.”**

 

Sam shook his head, clearing it of his memories. It’d been hard to get Dean to let him near him again for a while after that. The rest of the day had been filled with secret touches and knowing glances until the next morning when it had turned back into avoidance and guilt. It had taken him almost a month to soothe Dean’s fears and even now Sam was afraid it wasn’t strong enough yet, not when it came to Dad’s straight out disapproval.

 

He hadn’t told Dean then, but he thought what Dad was really talking about, were the college applications he’d sent out. Sam didn’t know for sure that Dad knew about them, hadn’t wanted to ask and upset what he had going now, but it had made more sense to him than the conclusion Dean had jumped to. 

 

Dad had no reason to be suspicious of them, until now at least. College on the other hand had to have crossed his mind a time or two; why else had Sam worked so hard in school? If there was nothing after High School, there was no use in working like he had, no use in even showing up once he hit sixteen and the law was satisfied to let him become another statistical dropout. 

 

Pushing away from the door Sam made his way sullenly to the diner, to wait for his brother. He could only hope that Dean’s feelings for him and his convictions were strong enough to withstand Dad’s disapproval and anger.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam took a seat in the back of the diner, waving off the waitress absently before she’d even made it to his table. His mind was racing and was so cluttered with thoughts of his brother that right now he just couldn’t deal with anything else. He sank low in his seat to wait things out, steadily becoming annoyed with himself for being so irritated and impatient when Dean was the one facing off with Dad. Sam had the easy part. He sat in the diner until Dean had convinced Dad not to kill them both. Meaning Sam was in for a long wait.

 

Sighing, he turned to the side, staring unseeingly out the window onto the dark street. Most of the street lights were out and what little light there was, came from the neon sign above the tacky diner; flashing pink and blue onto the sidewalk for whoever bothered to venture outside. Sam knew he wouldn’t have if things hadn’t gotten out of hand with Dad. 

 

Right now he could have been sneaking off with Dean, curling up in his brother’s arms and tasting him all over again. Instead, because he’d been dumb enough to let someone else get the mail that day, he was alone in the town diner, praying that what he’d started with his brother wasn’t about to come crashing down around him like the rest of his life.

 

There were a thousand different things Dad could say to Dean, a thousand different arguments, all of which made it abundantly clear that _Dean and Sam_ was wrong. All of which played on every one of Dean’s insecurities. So really, Sam had nothing to worry about.

 

He let his head fall forward, closing his eyes and taking deep steady breaths. Thinking like that wasn’t going to help him pass the time, and he was relatively certain that when Dean got back he wanted Sam speaking English, not idiot.

 

Or worse, chick speak. 

 

Pressing his hands to his face he tried to remember what Dean had said every time Sam got like this. Every whispered promise or joke meant to reassure Sam of Dean’s feelings and his place in Sam’s life, and found that all he could hear was his own pleading voice telling Dean to not let this go. 

 

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the low whistles that followed his brother’s entrance until his lip were brushing against Sam’s ear.

 

“Hey, baby,” he purred. 

 

Sam jumped and swore under his breath before relaxing into the seat again. How long had he been out of it? And how the hell hadn’t he heard Dean come up behind him? That was just what he needed tonight on top of everything else, shit about how he needed to be on his guard.

 

The smug bastard laughed and nudged Sam over. “I scare you?” he teased.

 

Sam shuddered as Dean’s teeth scraped gently down the back of his neck. “I wish you’d do that more,” Sam whimpered softly, not even realizing he‘d said anything until Dean laughed quietly.

 

“What?” he asked, biting lightly at the nape of his neck. “This?”

 

“No. Yes,” Sam amended quickly. “Definitely do that more, but that wasn’t what I meant.”

 

“Then what _did_ you mean?” Dean murmured, continuing to nuzzle at Sam‘s neck.

 

“Forget it,” Sam said quickly. It was embarrassing bringing up emotions or the things he liked unless they were in bed and too far gone for it to ever be used against him. He didn’t know what the hell he was thinking bringing anything up in the first place, especially when Dean had given him a way out.

 

“Sammy,” Dean urged. “Tell me.”

 

Sam considered ignoring Dean’s question and turning things back to what they were both avoiding, but changed his mind when Dean let out a soft growl and licked a line from Sam’s throat to the sensitive spot behind his ear.

 

“Call me baby,” he mumbled quickly around a moan. Sam kept his eyes on the table top, refusing to look at Dean. This night kept getting better and better for his freakin’ ego. He’d be lucky to have any dignity left by the time it was over, but when Dean wanted something from Sam he knew exactly how to get it.

 

“I’m sorry, did you just say you wanted me to call you-”

 

Sam blushed furiously. “Yes,” he grumbled quickly before Dean could finish his mocking. Did Dean need him to write it down for him? He was pretty sure he’d been clear about what he wanted.

 

Dean grinned triumphantly and lowered his mouth to Sam’s neck again, his lips and tongue working furiously at the tanned flesh Sam offered him. He tangled a hand in Dean’s hair and leaned back in the booth, relieved to have Dean back with him and as far away from Dad as possible for the moment. The heavy weight that had disappeared with Dean’s return, returned with full force as his thoughts turned back to Dad. Sam wasn’t sure how long Dean had been gone, but it had felt like an eternity to him and Dean was suddenly being much more affectionate than usual. Something that should have tipped him off to begin with.

 

“What did Dad say?” Sam asked nervously- not as thankful for this change in topic as he’d thought he would be.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Dean answered, continuing his trail of kisses up Sam’s throat. 

 

Sam resisted the urge to fall into his brother and let him avoid the real issue at hand. He turned his head to look at Dean better. “It does matter,” he replied irritably. It most definitely mattered-to Dean at least and Sam had to be sure that things would really be okay. 

 

Dean snapped back, hurt flashing in his eyes. Could Sam have phrased that any worse? He was pretty sure he couldn’t.

 

“No. Dean, I just meant that,“ Sam took a deep breath, forcing his voice to sound more reassuring than he felt. “You always care what Dad has to say and I don’t want you to end up hating me because of this.”

 

“Not gonna happen, Sammy.” Dean shook his head. “That was never going to happen. What Dad said doesn’t matter.” 

 

Irritation and uncertainty flared up in Sam again. Why couldn’t Dean just tell him what was going on? If what Dad said didn’t matter then he should be able to tell him instead of trying to suck Sam’s neck until it turned a deep, telling purple. 

 

“Well something’s up with you, Dean. You hate PDA, you’re always worried it’s gonna get back to Dad somehow or someone’s going to know your dirty little secret.” Sam tried not to sound bitter about Dean’s usually standoffish ways in public and failed miserably. He understood Dean’s fear of Dad finding out and in some ways what other people would think, but he loved Dean and he’d been through too much to let anyone decide who and how he loved. Older brother, or not.

 

xXx

 

“You want to know what happened, Sam?” Dean snapped, slightly irritated with Sam’s sudden change in behavior. Less than an hour ago he was making out with Dean in front of Dad and telling him he was everything he wanted. Then suddenly all he cared about was what Dad had to say about it and when Dean tried to save him the harshness of Dad’s words he lashed out at him and accused Dean of not caring enough. Of not wanting Dad to know. What the hell did he think Dean had been doing back at the motel for the past hour or so? He wasn’t sitting back and having a beer with Dad, that was for sure.

 

He’d dealt with Dad and his somewhat understandable outburst because he knew that when it was over he would be right back under Sam’s affectionate and worried gaze. Which was exactly what he needed to forget all about the new labels Dad had handed him tonight. He just wanted to come back to Sam and forget Dad, forget his disapproval, and remind himself that no matter what Dad would do or say, now or ever, Sam would _always_ be there to make things right again.

 

Sam willing of course. 

 

“I wouldn‘t ask if I didn‘t want to know,” Sam snapped back, his righteous irritation seriously beginning to piss Dean off.

 

_Stubborn son-of-a-bitch_ , Dean thought sourly. He had to just keep pushing, keep asking for more pain when all Dean wanted to do was protect him from it. Protect them both from it.

 

“Dad,” he relented out of annoyance. “Said everything you ever thought he could. He thinks we’re disgusting, well, me more than you, baby brother, after all you are my responsibility and I abused that. He doesn’t want anything to do with it or us. He wants us to straighten up and realize what we’re doing is wrong, or he doesn’t want to see us. You want me to keep going? Because I‘m pretty sure I‘m not going to say anything you really want to hear.” 

 

Dean clenched his jaw shut tightly, whether Sam wanted him to keep going or not. He wasn't prepared to go and giving Sam the uncensored version of what Dad really thought of their relationship. Dad had plenty of names for them and what they were doing and he was willing to bet his life that Sam didn’t want to hear those things. They might not affect the way he felt for Dean, but they’d sure as hell hurt his younger brother and that wasn’t his goal. He’d tried to avoid the topic all together, or at least the details, but Sam just wouldn’t let it drop. Suddenly what Dad had to say meant more to him than it did to Dean, and that just didn’t make sense. Sam had been the one from the start not to give a damn, but when it came right down to it Sam wanted their Dad’s approval almost as much as Dean did.

 

Sam sighed and rubbed his temples. “Probably not,” he agreed. 

 

“Then drop it, Sam. It doesn’t matter what we say or do. It’s on him now.” Dean meant that. It really didn’t matter what Dad thought, Dean had surrendered to Sam and the fact that he could never please them both a long time ago. One of them was always going to be disappointed in him, but as long as that person was Dad he’d learn to live with it. He’d faced Dad’s disappointment more than a few times in his life as well as Sam’s, but nothing hurt like when Sam turned those puppy dog eyes on him, betrayal written all over his face.

 

“Fine,” Sam agreed quietly. “I didn’t mean…I didn’t mean to push, but its not fair.” 

 

“What’s not fair?” Dean asked in confusion. It wasn’t fair that Dean got to know what Dad thought and he didn’t? Because Dean would rather not know himself.

 

“That you had to take responsibility for us by yourself. I started this, I pushed you into this knowing how you felt about it and then you took all the blame. I’m not a kid anymore, Dean. You shouldn’t be answering for me.”

 

Dean shrugged. Older brother, younger brother. It didn’t matter how old Sam got, Dean was always going to feel the need to protect him and take responsibility for whatever might hurt him. It was his natural instinct to do so and Sam was going to have to learn to deal with that one day, because Dean wasn’t going to learn to let Sam fend for himself. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Sam added after a few seconds of awkward silence. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. Dad just confirmed every fear you’ve ever had about us and I snapped at you because I didn’t have to hear it.”

 

“Sam,” Dean snorted. “Can we drop the chick flick moment and the subject of Dad all together? Its done with. Dad’s got his view on things and we’ve got ours. Until you tell me its over, he’s just going to have to accept things. Okay?” 

 

Sam hesitated a second and then nodded. “Okay.”

 

Dean sank back in the booth and let the tension ease out of him. That was two crises averted in the past three hours and as ready as he was to let things drop and join Sam in his satisfaction, or what satisfaction there could be in this situation, he just wasn’t ready to let go of everything.

 

Sam had challenged Dean’s actions and now he had no choice but to show Sam up. He wouldn’t be the awesome older brother he was if he didn‘t. Dean raised a challenging brow at a confused Sam and waved their waitress over. They’d see just who worried more about Dad and their secret now.

 

xXx

 

Sam drew his brows together in confusion as the waitress made her way over to their table, pulling a pencil from behind her ear. She was a pretty girl, he noticed now, with big blue eyes, dark brown curls, and a crooked smile. Her eyes were tired but bright, like she knew something better was just around the corner and she wasn’t going to let anyone tell her any different. 

 

She gave them a weak smile and a soft “What can I do for you?”

 

Dean smiled up at her. “This is my baby brother,” he said suddenly, glancing between her and Sam.

 

Her smile wavered and then widened, obviously thinking that Dean was trying to set them up or that this was going somewhere kinky. Knowing Dean, it might have gone somewhere kinky, if Sam wasn’t involved in the conversation. Dean would never share Sam, and Sam would most definitely never share Dean. So as far as he could see, this conversation was going nowhere. 

 

Sam smiled politely back and resisted the urge to smack Dean in the back of the head. What did he have to go and drag some poor woman into this? She didn’t want any part of their argument, or to be used as some kind of pawn in his brother’s annoying game. Sam was sure she had enough problems of her own. Didn’t everybody?

 

Wordlessly Dean turned back to Sam and crushed their mouths together. Sam’s mind blanked at the first brush of lips but he was fairly certain the waitress behind Dean let out a low appreciative whistle before turning and walking away. What he wasn’t sure of was if more blood rushed to his face or his groin, at least until Dean gave his bottom lip one last lick and slowly pulled away.

 

“Things are gonna change, Sammy. Dad knows how I feel about you and he’ll either come around or he’ll stay away,” Dean shrugged. “I can change his feelings about as much as he can change mine.”

 

Sam ducked his head, the blood returning to his cheeks. He knew what Dean had just done was to reassure him of his feelings, but it brought up a lot of insecurity in Sam.

 

Dean’s hand wrapped around the back of his neck, thumb stroking heated flesh. “Sammy?” 

 

He leaned into Dean’s touch unconsciously. “How _do_ you feel?” he asked tentatively.

 

It may have been a stupid question to ask; too much, too fast and all that, but Sam had to ask eventually. Dean was the one, after all, telling Sam to never give himself over for nothing, even for Dean. Just because Sam had managed to keep them together for the past two months or so, didn’t mean that Dean was planning on making this a long term thing or more than mutual, physical satisfaction in a life he wasn’t willing to change.

 

xXx

 

“Hey,” Dean said, hooking a finger underneath Sam’s chin. He titled Sam’s mouth up to his and kissed him for all he was worth, pouring every thought, every feeling he’d ever had for Sam into that kiss until it bordered on obscene.

 

When the few occupants in the diner at this ungodly hour started to holler and catcall the two of them, Sam put a hand to his chest and pushed him back, panting. Who wasn’t up for PDA now? Dean smirked at his younger brother’s dazed expression as he rested his head against Dean’s shoulder and took slow, deep breaths.

 

“Sammy, I…” Dean swallowed. Why was it so hard to tell Sam he loved him? It wasn’t like he didn’t love Sam, because he did.

 

He loved Sam more than anything he’d ever known. Sam was the only person he could be happy kissing for the rest of his life and not need anything more, if Sam didn’t want it. Not that he was going to be suggesting that any time soon. Just because he could go without it, didn’t mean he was going to volunteer that information. Not when Sam felt as good as he did, and not when he tasted sweeter, hotter and more desperate every time.

 

“It’s okay, Dean. You don’t have to say anything,.” Sam smiled and pressed his mouth back to Dean’s, trying to keep the disappointment from his smile, and failing miserably. 

 

No. It wasn’t okay. Sam had given himself so easily to Dean; he’d made it clear the first time he kissed Dean that he was in love with him. The unshakable, always there, twisting your gut into knots at the slightest change in the other person’s mood, kind of love. The kind of love Dean had for Sam; he just couldn’t voice it as easily. And that wasn’t okay when it hurt Sam. 

 

He just couldn’t seem to open himself up enough to say it, not even for Sam, and he hated himself for that. Dean sighed in frustration with himself and pulled Sam back in when he tried to pull away. “It’s not okay,” Dean insisted. “I’m trying, baby. I really am.” 

 

Sam grinned and blushed at Dean’s quick acceptance of the endearment. “It’s fine, Dean, really.”

 

No, it really wasn’t. But he wasn’t going to sit there all night and argue over it with Sam when they could be doing other things-like proving how he felt.

 

He lowered his mouth to Sam’s. “I do you know,” Dean murmured against his lips. It wasn’t ‘ _I love you_ ’, but it was a start. Nuzzling Sam’s cheek, he grinned widely at the soft whimper that answered him, deep chocolate brown eyes, hazy with need, slipping shut.

 

Maybe one day it wouldn’t be so hard to tell Sam how he felt, if that was the kind of answer he was going to get.


End file.
